More Unicorny Stories
Foolhardy moments in the tree house
When you feel unseasonably anxious: Unhinged Blessings.
‘May you feel balanced, even as your life spirals out of control,’ you say to anyone who needs to hear it — mostly yourself.
Your demons are unique to you, like fingerprints, or DNA, or the patterns radiating from your irises like tree roots.
“I believe in you.” You say to the unicorns. Silence. The feeling may not be mutual.
It seems you have misplaced your garden, not your mind. But you check, just in case…
All you wanted to do was to be complete. You thought that getting there would be like doing sit-ups, noble but vaguely unpleasant work.